In Wattles #2, the golden bloom becomes a rhythm — a pulse of light moving through muted scrub. The work is less a depiction of wattles than an evocation of how they feel in place: the way yellow clusters catch the air, the flicker of warmth against cool shadow, the soft murmur of renewal within the bush.
 
Working in oil and wax on board, I build the image through accumulation — layers of pigment, scraped and re-veiled, allowing light to move beneath the surface. The wax captures that sense of translucency, of something both grounded and fleeting. It is a material that remembers touch; every mark carries the residue of gesture and pause.
 
Wattles #2 sits within my ongoing exploration of Australia’s quieter landscapes — places of endurance and subtle beauty that might otherwise be passed by. In this piece, the wattle’s luminosity becomes a metaphor for attention itself: how small acts of noticing can illuminate the ordinary, and how fragility and strength can coexist within the same form.
 
The composition invites the viewer closer, asking for stillness — a kind of looking that is also listening. The gold hums softly within greys and greens, just as light hums through the air at the edge of day.
Ultimately, Wattles #2 is about the generosity of the landscape: how it offers beauty without demand, how it renews itself quietly, and how, when we stop long enough to see it, we too are renewed.
 
Oil and wax on board 40cm x 32cm